


so much like choking

by creamyoreofillings



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Lowercase, M/M, Panic Attacks, Vague relationship, bottling up your emotions out of fear of not explaining shit clearly, brotherhood era, grammatical mistakes are intentional, sorry bros, this is.....me, u gotta squint, unhealthy emotional coping methods, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 08:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20904725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creamyoreofillings/pseuds/creamyoreofillings
Summary: '—and it hurts so much;so much like, choking down the embers,of a great blaze—'





	so much like choking

**Author's Note:**

> title and summary is from "short stories with tragic endings"

prompto cant breathe.

he cant hear anything other than the loud ringing in his ears. the loud beats of his heart, the fast rush of his blood. his chest constricts and it  _ hurts _ ; like someone is pushing down on it  _ hard _ . his lungs burn, and so does his eyes; like stinging, like he's going to  ** _cry_ ** like,  _ like— _

"prompto?" a voice says, quietly. prompto quickly presses his palms to his eyes, trying to stop the— _ tears, he suspects; it's always tears _ —burning. stars burst in his eyes and it makes it burn  _ more _ , but it only makes prompto's hands press into his eyelids harder.

"prom? prom, talk to me." the voice says again, making prompto whine pathetically. he can't; not right now. he just–he just has to control himself.  **Yes** ; he just  _ needs _ to control himself. to explain, to make them  _ understand— _

"you don't have to hold back prom," the voice— _ Noctis, a distant voice in his head whispers _ —murmurs, in a delicate tone. "it's okay to cry."

prompto takes a breath and—oh  ** _no_ ** , he can feel his chin and mouth and lungs  _ shudder, thats not a good sign— _

instead of answering, the blonde shakes his head furiously. he focuses on steadying his breathing, keeping the  ** _tears_ ** at bay–anything to just  _ say something— _

the couch shifts underneath him; it dips beside him and he can distantly hear the sound of expensive leather accommodating the weight. "prom, i want to help you." Noctis says, closer now. "i want to help, but you have to let it out—"

prompto can feel his mind break at his words.

" ** _I CANT_ ** _ , _ " prompto screams, feeling hot liquid on his palms.  _ no  _ ** _no_ ** _ –its  _ ** _coming_ ** _ — _ he takes a shuddering breath, trying to steady his  **everything** . to  ** _explain._ **

with a gasping, shaky breath, he wails with a wobbly voice. "i  _ cant _ , b–because then i cant  ** _explain_ ** , and if i  _ c–cant explain _ , then  ** _you wont unders–stand_ ** ; and if–if you  _ wont under–underst–st–stand,  _ ** _you cant help me_ ** , and if you  _ cant  _ ** _h–help me—_ ** " the explanation rushes out of his mouth, stuttery and broken and  _ incomprehensible— _

a sob breaks through his defenses, and prompto  _ crumbles _ .

** _'STOP! stop! stop BEING A BABY!'_ ** his mind screeches, alarm bells ringing in his head, louder than the beat of his heart.  ** _'stop crying and EXPLAIN BETTER!'_ **

prompto starts to mouth words under his breath;  _ 'im sorry' _ pouring out in voiceless, breathless gasps. his lungs are  _ burning _ ; like someone set them  _ on  _ ** _fire_ ** , and his eyes continuing to build up tears he  _ wont let them fall _ –if they fall, it's game over.

arms encircle his shoulders, hesitant. they drape lightly; like Noctis is trying not to rest his entire weight on prompto. prompto wishes that Noctis would hug him tight. to make him stop shivering, to stop the world from  _ shaking— _

"im not saying you have to  _ explain right now _ , prom," Noctis says, somewhere above his head. prompto _ —again; how ungrateful— _ wishes he rests his head on him. Noctis continues through the shaky breaths and gasps prompto lets out. "i just want you cry now–let it all out." at that, prompto lets out a little, pathetic squeak, and shakes his head.

Noctis' arms press into him, the pressure grounding prompto a bit. "you have to, prom–" he sounds a bit desperate, "it's...its not healthy to bottle all of this up."

prompto buries his face into his hands, ashamed. the tears behind his palms keep building up. his hearts speeds up. the ringing gets louder—

"i want to help you, but I can't help you until you  _ let yourself cry _ ." he—the Crown Prince, his Best Friend,  _ Noctis Lucis Caelum, stupid, funny, charming  _ ** _Noct_ ** — kisses the back of prompto's head.

at that moment, prompto allows himself cry for the first time in 10 years.

**Author's Note:**

> haha dont mind me, projecting my frustrations onto my favourite characters
> 
> sorry.


End file.
